Eyes of Ice, Eyes of Flame
by HolmesianDeduction
Summary: A shorter fiction that centers around Alastor and Aurora's relationship before, during, and after Words So Leisured. Recommended that you read Words So Leisured first.
1. Aurora Kapranos

_--September 9__th__, 1969; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

First years. Droves of them. Not one of them knowing what they were getting into. I didn't much care for them myself, but then again, I could say that about pretty much anyone. I was a third year, by the by—thirteen or so, and damn proud of it.

Ignoring the stares and whispers that I had become accustomed to, I held my head up and strolled (all right, limped really—I've got a bum left leg, a birth defect of some sort, I suppose) over to the Gryffindor table and took my seat just as the Sorting Ceremony began.

As the hat gave its usual little speech and Dumbledore started down the list of names, I zoned out a little as chatter resumed in the hall among shouts of "Gryffindor!" and "Hufflepuff!" and "Ravenclaw!" and even a few "Slytherin!"s. It was rather boring really after the first two times.

"Aurora Draconis Kapranos!" As Professor Dumbledore called out the name, the Hall grew strangely quiet, and even the teachers ceased murmuring amongst themselves. Looking up, I saw a tall, willowy wisp of a girl stride purposefully across the room, her long dark hair shielding the translucent skin of her face from view.

Sitting on the stool, she gazed out at the crowd with icy pale blue eyes that sparkled with an uncanny intelligence. When they placed the hat on her head, it was silent for almost three full minutes before calling out, "Slytherin!"

At this, the girl looked momentarily startled, but then quickly recovered and took her place at the table, her mask-like expression daring anyone to question her right to be there.

"Hey Weasley!" leaning across an aisle, I poked Arthur Weasley, a Hufflepuff who had worked with me in Herbology the previous year, in the shoulder.

Turning around in his seat, he looked at me over his glasses, "What is it Moody?"

"That girl," I tossed my head toward the Slytherin table, "Who is she that's got everyone so ruffled?"

Running a hand through his trademark red hair, he stared at me, "You mean you _don't know?"_ When I nodded, he sighed, "She's the sole scion of the Kapranos family—the second-oldest pureblood house in England next to the Blacks and the most ruthless next to none; which makes her very bad news."

I raised an eyebrow, "How do you figure?"

Jumping into the conversation, Arthur's girlfriend, Molly added, "Rumor has it that she had a twin brother, but she strangled him in the womb and that's why her mother died in childbirth and her father hates her."

Arthur snorted, "Yeah, yeah, but how can you believe any of that? They also say that she's a werewolf and that she knows more curses that Professor Willows, but you don't believe _that_ do you?" He turned back to me, "Why do you ask?"

I shrugged, "Oh, just curious." Truth was, I was intrigued by this strange new first year, because in so many ways, she was like myself.


	2. Werewolves

_--October 31__st__, 1970; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"So tell me," Aurora looked at me skeptically, "What the hell made you choose me?" It had been a year since we had first met and it was astounding what had happened since then. Ever since I had first spoken to her a month into her first year, we had had a sort of understanding. We looked out for each other.

Finally, I answered, "Because you're dangerous on so many levels, and because on so many levels, you just like me."

Taking her eyes off me, she looked up at the ceiling. "Outsiders…that's all we'll ever be, eh Alastor?" We had foregone the use of surnames a good while back due to certain disagreements over hers.

"I suppose so…I mean what normal second and fourth years would forgo the Halloween Feast to just hang around?" At this, we both laughed weakly, but it only struck home how truly different we were from everyone else—how we could never truly blend in with other people.

Suddenly, she sat up, "I'm not a werewolf, you know." When I gave her a questioning look, she said, "I'm an animagus, that's all. I can't help that I turn into a wolf."

To this, I simply said, "I believe you Aurora." And I really did.


	3. The Hog's Head

_--February 20__th__, 1972; Hogsmeade._

Glancing around the room, I leaned over the bar, "I'll have two Butterbeers." As the bartender turned away, I handed Aurora a small silver hipflask, "Here. Pour your beer into this."

Raising an eyebrow, she gave me a searching look, "Why?"

I smiled, "Because where we're going, it's safer to bring your own drink." When she looked at me skeptically, I added, "Trust me. The Three Broomsticks is overrated. The Hog's Head is where we belong."

After funneling our drinks, we headed to the Hog's Head. Sitting at the bar, I took a sip of my drink and she did the same. Leaning over the bar, I cocked my head in the bartender's direction, "Hey Aberforth, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

Turning around, Aberforth smiled, "Ah, Alastor. Long time no see. You've been busy I assume." Glancing at Aurora, he looked back at me, "Who's your friend?"

"Oh," I glanced at Aurora who was giving Aberforth a strange look, "Aurora, this is Aberforth Dumbledore, the bartender of the Hog's Head and a friend of mine." Looking back at Aberforth, I nodded to Aurora, "Aberforth, this is Aurora Kapranos; this is her first time here."

Nodding, Aberforth smiled, "I thought you looked familiar. You look just like your mother." Shaking her hand, he nodded, "In any case, it's nice to meet you Aurora."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she responded chilly, "So you knew my mother?"

"Natasha?" Aberforth laughed, "Aye. She was a real beauty too, bit of an odd one compared to the rest of the family. Everyone was surprised when she married Alexander though…of course Abraxas was pleased to see his sister marry up."

At this, I frowned, "Wait a minute, Abraxas Malfoy? That's Lucius Malfoy's father, innit?"

Giving me a sideways glance, Aurora sighed, "Yeah. My mother was his sister, which makes Malfoy my cousin." Turning away, she took a swig from her flask, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some fresh air. Nice to meet you Aberforth. Alastor, I'll see you later."

As she walked out, Aberforth shook his head, "She's an odd one for sure…a beauty like her mother, but I'm willing to bet she's more dangerous than her father and uncle combined."

"Yeah," taking a sip from my flask, I sighed, "she's been catching a lot of flack from Lucius and the Black sisters for hanging out with me. I'm surprised she wasn't a Ravenclaw. I guess her lineage won out in the end."

He shrugged, "Could be. I dunno really. So I suppose you've taken a fancy to her, eh Alastor?"

I shrugged back, "Oh, I don't know. I mean, she's only fourteen, sure I'm sixteen, but still, I'm not sure."

Smiling thinly, Aberforth started polishing a glass, "I think you do know Alastor, but that's not any of my business," he paused, "Now, I think you'd better go look for her before she gets herself in some trouble. And give Albus my regards."

"All right," I muttered, "Later Aberforth."


	4. The Rings

_--May 25__th__, 1973; Platform 9 ¾._

"Aurora, before you go home," she winced at my usage of the term, "I want you to have this." Fishing around in my pocket, I drew out a small silver ring inlaid with a deep blue sapphire.

Taking it, she fitted it on her finger and looked at me suspiciously, "What the hell for?"

"Well," I looked away, "I know your situation is rough, and I'm graduating next year…so this pretty much ensures we know what's up. If one of us dies, it goes black, and if one of us is in trouble, it changes shade. It's not brilliant, but it's easy to pass off as something else. See," I held up my left hand to reveal a matching one, "I've got one too."

Eying the ring on her own hand, she nodded, "All right, I can understand where this might come in handy." Looking up, she gave me a crooked smile, "Oh, and Alastor? You're not bad for a Gryffindor with a gimpy leg."

Swatting at her, I laughed, "What's that make you? A Slytherin with a heart? That's _got_ to be a major handicap over your way!"

At this, she fell silent and I feared I had crossed the line, but then she laughed weakly, "Yeah, I suppose it is, isn't it?"

"Not in my book it's not," I replied softly. At this, she started to say something, but then froze. Grabbing her shoulder, I looked around, "What's the matter Aurora?"

She winced, "I…have to go now." Following her gaze, I saw a tall, slender man with shagged black hair and burning pale green eyes set in a cold, mask-like face that bore a frightening resemblance to my friend's. I would later learn that the man was her father, Alexander Kapranos, but at the time, as Aurora followed him away from me, I didn't care who he was; I hated him all the same.

Over that summer, though I sent her several letters, only once did I receive a response back from her large pet raven, Aloysius, and even then it was not so much a letter as a small package containing a small, silver dagger emblazoned with the Kapranos family crest and decorated with an elaborate dragon motif.


	5. Dead Man Walking

_--December 15__th__, 1973; Platform 9 ¾._

"A foe-glass, huh?" holding it up, Aurora's eyes darted to each of the shadows that could be seen moving through the mist, "I'll definitely need this as a prefect."

It was the day everyone was going home for winter break, and we had already spent the entire train ride trying to avoid Malfoy and the Blacks. I looked at her expectantly, "So you like it?"

Pocketing the foe-glass, she grinned that crooked grin of hers, "Like it? I _love_ it! Thanks Alastor. I really wish I could contact you more easily while at Blowne House, so we could spend more time together outside of school." She always referred to it by its formal name; never did I ever hear her call that place "home", and I didn't know why for the longest time.

As we stood there on the platform, I suddenly, on a whim, grabbed both of her shoulders and kissed her square on the mouth.

Pulling away slightly, Aurora gave me an odd look. "Alastor," she hissed, "What are you doing? People will see us!"

"I don't care, dammit!" I kissed her again, longer this time, "Hell, I don't care if the whole goddamn _world_ sees! Who are _they_ to disapprove?"

Pulling away again, Aurora shook her head, "It doesn't take the whole world Alastor. All it takes is the wrong person to see us, and you're a dead man."

"You mean all it takes is your slime-ball _father_!" I spat angrily, "When are you going to stop letting that bastard run your life?!"

Turning away, she was quiet for a long time, then: "It will end the spring break after my seventeenth birthday. I can't tell you how, but that's when I'll gain my freedom."

Over time, I forgot those words. I wish I hadn't.


	6. I'll Be Your Mirror

_--January 7__th__, 1976; The Ministry of Magic._

"Hey Moody!" Aaron Stirg, another auror-in-training, ran into my room, "Hey Moody, you hear the rumor about your girl?"

Looking up sharply from my work, I gave him an icy glare, "_What?!"_

Taking a step back, Stirg looked at the ground, "Er…there's a rumor going around that your…er…that Kapranos slept with Sirius Black."

"_What?!"_ Leaping up from my chair, I grabbed Stirg by the collar, "Where did you hear this?!"

Eyes wide, he swallowed hard, "I er…heard it from my girlfriend! She's a seventh year up at Hogwarts! Please don't hurt me."

Putting him down, I frowned and said in a low voice, "Get out. I need to be alone."

"Sure thing man, later," with that, Aaron ran out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, I pulled out a small silver mirror from my desk drawer; the twin to one that I had given Aurora earlier in the year. As I whispered her name, the mirror fogged over and her face, drawn and tear-streaked appeared. She must have seen the expression on my own features, because her face became instantly even more haggard than they were. "Alastor, I didn't," she blurted out in a choked tone, "Surely you don't believe—"

"Shut up!" I snapped. My own throat was tightening to the point that my own voice threatened to strangle me. "Look Aurora, I've dealt with a lot from you. Secrecy, lies, hostility, these things I could deal with; but this, I simply cannot handle," pausing, I swallowed hard; trying to get rid of the lump growing in my throat, "It's over. I just can't keep this relationship going like this."

As I said it, I could see that the words hurt her to hear them just as much as they hurt me to say them. "There was no relationship!" she hissed, "We're friends! Nothing more!" I don't know why she said that, unless it was to hurt me to dull her own pain.

And hurt me it did. Shaking my head, I replied softly, "Maybe that's how _you_ saw it, but for me, it was _always_ something so much more than that." Pausing again, I racked my brain for something more to say, something to fix everything, but what came out was: "Don't bother trying to contact me after this. I won't answer, in fact, why don't you just throw the damn mirror away? Good night Kapranos."

With that, I slammed it back down into my desk drawer and looked around the room for something to throw, but I found nothing. Spying a picture of the two of us sitting on my desk, I grabbed that and threw it into the drawer alongside the mirror. I even started to rip the ring off my finger, but something stopped me, and slumping back into my chair, I laid my head down on my desk. The feel of the cool wood finish against my skin was a comfort, but it couldn't stop the part of me that said that I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.


	7. Lightness

_--July 7__th__, 1977; Blowne House._

Propping herself up on her elbow, Aurora gave me a hard look with those pale blue eyes of hers, "If you really believed those rumors about me, then why did you keep the ring?"

"Dammit," I muttered, "must you bring that up? I don't know why I kept it. Just a hunch, I suppose." It had been a year or so since the death of Alexander Kapranos, and Aurora and I had somehow managed to patch things up, though at the same time she was more distant than she had ever been. Running my fingers up and down her left arm, I smiled thinly, "but does any of that really matter?"

Raising an eyebrow, she leaned into my shoulder, "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. For now, I can deal with not having an answer."

"Good," I murmured, leaning in to kiss her tenderly along her jaw-line. I knew by then that she didn't like being kissed on the mouth—it made her feel as if she was being suffocated. Inhaling the scent of her hair, I added, "It's hard to answer a question when you don't know the answer yourself, eh?"

"Perhaps," she whispered, her cool breath on my neck sending chills down my spine, "perhaps that's true." Tracing a line down my chest with one finger, she smiled and weaved the fingers of her left hand into my hair, a dangerous look flickering into her eyes like blue flames. "But then again," she kissed my neck, applying gentle pressure with her teeth in all the right places—she knew better than anyone, even myself, how to make me squirm. "Then again, maybe you're right, and it doesn't really matter."

Running a hand through her long, magically darkened hair, I pull her closer and kissed the nape of her neck, tracing part of a scar with my tongue, all the while being careful not to touch the ones on her back at any point. We never talked about the scars that crisscrossed across the skin of her back, even though we both knew how they had gotten there.

Arching her back, she dug her fingernails into my shoulder blades and let out a soft moaning noise that always startled me, no matter how many times I heard it, mainly because she always managed to sound almost as if she was in pain. That's how she was though. With Aurora, there was always a very thin line between pain and pleasure, and one had to be careful not to cross that line the wrong way.

Staring into her eyes, I felt another shudder wrack my frame as her long, tapered fingers danced up and down my spine like tiny daggers digging deep, but never drawing blood. It was a game of ours—Aurora liked to see just how far she could go without hurting me, and I—well I didn't care, I just wanted her to be happy once in a while. Burying my face in her hair, I whispered, "I love you, you know that?"

Pulling away, she took my chin in her hands and gave me a long, hard look. "Yes," she eventually whispered, "I know Alastor. You don't have to tell me that."

"All right," I murmured, "No more talking, then." Suddenly, I heard her emit a small hiss of anger and surprise as I felt something cool trickle down the side of my face.

"_Fuck!_" she muttered, "Hold still Alastor." Turning my head to one side, she gently kissed an area just above my jaw and I realized what had happened—why she was so angry about it. She had accidentally drawn blood. A few seconds later, she drew back, wiping her lips with the back of one hand, "There," she murmured, "It should be fine now…sorry about that."

Pulling her back toward me, I laughed softly, "Don't worry about it, I don't mind…hell you could've punctured my damn lung and I wouldn't mind as long as you were the one doing it."

Laughing weakly, she shook her head, "You're an odd one Alastor."

Grinning, I kissed the scar at her throat before replying, "Maybe, but you know you wouldn't have me any other way."


	8. A Modest Proposal

_--August 10__th__, 1980; The Hog's Head._

"Calling me back to our old stomping grounds…clever." Settling on a bar stool beside me, Aurora eyed me grimly, "What's going on Alastor?"

At the young age of twenty, Aurora had fit right into the roll of auror, just as I knew she would. Taking a sip from my flask, I trailed my eyes over her form until I reached her face. I knew every inch of her, every scar and marking by heart. Planting a peck on her left cheek, I winced at how uncommonly uncomfortable she seemed.

Pulling away, I looked at her troubled features and sighed, "Aurora, I know this is kind of out of the blue, particularly for me, but I just wanted to know, that er…ah hell, assuming we both don't get killed in the next five minutes, would you be willing to marry me?"

At those words, all the blood drained from her face, and she almost dropped her flask. Shaking her head, she looked away, "I can't."

Trembling, I grabbed her arm to keep her from running out of the room. "Why not?" I asked softly, "You can at least tell me that. Please Aurora; at least tell me _why not?"_

Sitting back down, she looked at me with a mixture of indignance and regret. "It took me a long time to realize it," she murmured, "but Alastor; I'm married to my work. Someone like me, with a past like mine, doesn't really deserve any better. Besides," her eyes took on a haunted cast, "I'm the last of my line and I intend to stay that way. House Kapranos dies with me."

Grabbing her by both shoulders I shook her, "What the hell are you thinking? Of course you deserve something better! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Looking at me with eyes that were suddenly cold, she shrugged me off, "I knew you wouldn't understand…I hoped you would, but I knew better." And with that, she stalked out of the bar, leaving me standing there, alone.

As I stood there staring after her, Aberforth came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry about her, laddie. She'll come around eventually."

"No," I shook my head, "you don't know her like I do Aberforth. If she says no, she means no, and nothing can change her mind."


	9. Volatile

_--March 25__th__, 1996; Number Twelve Grimmauld Place._

"Volatile? _You're_ calling _me_ volatile?!" Whirling on me, Aurora looked at me with a look of burning hatred, "Obviously, I'm less volatile than _you_ considering _I'm_ still in one piece!"

The words stung a bit, but over the years I had become indifferent to such jibes. "Yes, Aurora," I shot back, "You're volatile! You're wanted for murder and illegal beast breeding in more than twelve countries, you abandoned your post without warning, and now you expect to be given total freedom?! Are you fucking _insane?!"_

Pulling out her wand, Aurora pointed it at me with trembling fingers. "You want to say that again Alastor?" she growled, her eyes flashing dangerously, "Hm? You want to say that again?" She smiled crookedly, "You don't think I would do it? You know I would. You've seen me do it. Now I suggest you make yourself scarce before I do something we'd both regret."

Never turning my back to her, I left the room, and headed down the stairs, my head throbbing. "You all right Alastor?" Molly Weasley looked up as I came into the room, "You look pale."

"I'll be fine, Molly," I muttered, "just give me a few moments." I was startled, it was true. I knew how dangerous she was, but I had never imagined she would go so far as to turn her wand on me. I had never really been afraid of her until then. It worried me. At this point, the only person who could handle her without being in danger was Lupin, and occasionally Sirius, since they were kind of in the same boat.

I missed her though. It puzzled me that after all the time we had been together—ten bloody _years_—that she could suddenly turn so cold. I know we had been apart longer than we had been together, but still…it didn't make it hurt any less. Eventually, I pulled myself together, got my coat, and headed home.


	10. Reflection

_--July 16__th__, 1997; Blowne House._

"So you've decided to stay here from now on?" I glanced at Aurora from across the room. It had only been a few days since she had escaped from Azkaban with a little help from Lupin, Tonks, and myself, and she was already plotting her next move.

Looking up, she nodded, "Yeah. I don't want to be near Molly any more than I have to. Charley, Bill, and I are old friends, but I don't much care for the rest of the family. They aren't too fond of me either, in case you hadn't noticed."

"When you turned yourself in, you didn't know they planned on executing you, did you?" I asked quietly. The question had been plaguing my mind ever since Lupin had brought me the news about a year ago.

Glancing at me, she shook her head, "Nope. They didn't tell me until about a month into the damn thing. They were probably doing it so that Chas couldn't come to my defense and provide my alibi and to keep the Americans from getting me."

That brought me a little relief. It was good to know that suicide had not been her initial goal, though I wasn't absolutely sure that it didn't enter into the picture at some point. Wiping some dust off of a desk, I glanced at her hesitantly, "Aurora—"

"No Alastor," she cut me off, "I told you, I'm married to my work."

Not surprised that she had guessed what I was going to say, I cocked my head, "Might I remind you that you don't technically have a job?"

Turning to face me, she gave me an exasperated look. "You just don't give up, do you Alastor?" When I shook my head, she sighed, "Tenacious bastard. Fine. Right now, job or no, my work is to make sure that the Order beats this guy out—again. After that's done with, well…we'll see." Picking up a few items off the desk, she sighed, "Ah well, if this is going to serve as a boarding house for some of our spare Order members, we're going to need a secret-keeper," she shot me a, dare I say, coy look, "You up to that, Alastor?"

I nodded, "Yes…but what do you mean 'extra Order members'? Who exactly is going to be staying here?"

At this, she laughed bitterly, "Ah, tenacious _and_ jealous. Relax; it'll probably just be Remus, Tonks, Charley, and Bill. We decided it would be easier to keep close to Grimmauld Place than to come and go every time we met, so they're staying with me."

"Oh. All right," flipping on a switch, I went down a flight of stairs ahead of her into another room; a room made of hard stone and dotted with bloodstains and bizarre devices. One wall had a patch of stonework that was recent compared to the rest of the wall. _Odd…_

Coming up behind me, I heard Aurora emit a small sound of irritation from in between her teeth. "_This_ place," she muttered, "You remember it?"

Once she mentioned it, I realized that I did. It was here that Alexander Kapranos met his unfortunate end twenty-one years ago. I knew because I had been there when he died at Aurora's hands. I had held her when she finally cracked under the sudden adrenaline shock, and I had helped wall up her father's broken body in the western wall. Then, just as soon as I had stumbled upon it, I forgot about it. Forgot about the horror I had witnessed in that room, about the screams from her father, about the fear I had had for Aurora—fear of what would happen if she killed him, and even more fear of what would happen if she didn't.

Suddenly, I felt her icy hands on my shoulders and I heard her voice whisper, "Alastor…you're trembling." As she said this, I realized that she was right; I was shaking like a leaf. Breathing shallowly, I allowed her to lead me away and out of the room where she grabbed me by both shoulders, "Alastor," she whispered, "Alastor, snap out of it. That was a long time ago."

Looking at her, at the concern on her features, I managed to choke out the words, "I know." With those words, she sat me down in an armchair and watched me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Finally, I said, "Was that one of the crimes you were charged for?"

Blinking, she looked momentarily taken aback, "No. No it wasn't. The only people who know what really happened are you and I." She paused, "Unless you told someone."

"No," I muttered, "I didn't tell anyone. I did a lot of terrible shit to you, but never that. That would have been unforgivable. Particularly for someone for whom 'forgiveness' isn't in their vocabulary." I hated saying that, but I knew it was true. She forgave a lot of things in me, but that wasn't one of them.

Leaning down, she kissed me gingerly on the forehead and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I had known her for longer than I had known anyone, and there was no one else I trusted more—she was like a poisonous butterfly; as beautiful as she was deadly. Sure she had caused me more pain, physical, mental, and emotional, than anyone else in my life, but dammit, even after seventeen years, I still loved her.

And for the life of me, I don't know why.


End file.
